My Prince
by BobbiAlyss
Summary: "There once was a boy - a prince - who was very, very mistreated and very, very misunderstood." Thorki.


**Day 1.**

_It doesn't hurt me_, Loki swore to himself, quietly, every night. He had thought those exact words before, repeated them in his mind, and would continue to do so until he actually believed them. Until the pain disappeared. But it never did. Despite how many times he tended to his own wounds, despite how many bandages and stitches he used, how many bones he magicked back together, the pain remained, sempiternal. Every night, he suffered in anguish. It began in the depths of his abdomen and rose to his throat, taunting, to the point where he felt that if he screamed - if he gave into the need to wail, to shout and howl until his voice was raw with effort - he would be rid of the pain forever. But he knew better than to fall for such pathetic methods.

_**Pathetic methods? You're one to talk; you're the only pathetic thing here**_. His thoughts plagued him, infecting his mind due to the solitude. The silence. The cell was cold, moreso than even he was used to. He was freezing.

_Do they want to make me squirm so badly? Do they abhor me so much that they would put in extra effort just to make me uncomfortable_?

_**They hate you**_.

_They fear me_.

_**Because you're a danger to everyone. All you do is ruin. Ruin and fail**_.

Pushing the poisonous thoughts out of his mind, Loki sat on the cot. He missed his actual room, with an actual bed. He wanted something familiar. Something warm.

**Day 3.**

It had begun. The fury. The rage. He felt ridiculous, locked in a cell like a perilous pet snake, or more, perhaps, like an inadequate, feeble bird. Which is what he was sure _they_ viewed him as - the Avengers. He detested them all, his resentment being directed at one person in particular. The depths of his hatred could hardly be put into words, but he could feel it. Bubbling, boiling, momentarily replacing the emptiness in his stomach. Replacing the pain that had somehow doubled in size. Loki punched the glass suddenly, violently. They'd forgotten him here. Hadn't fed him at all, as if to torture him until he realized his wrongdoings, like a puppy being house-trained. The thought brought a cruel laugh to his lips.

"Praytell brother, what is so funny?"

Loki was still, frozen by the sound. He dared not to turn and face the man. "Not you," he whispered, pleading. "Anyone but you."

"Loki-"

"Not. _You!_" He turned around and grimaced at the blonde. "You disgust me, you pitiable, ill-bred brute. Don't you _dare_ try to speak to me. I have never despised anyone as much as I do you." Loki glared through the glass seperating them, smirking with contempt. Thor didn't meet his gaze as he passed something slowly through the slot in the door.

"Loki..."

This time, the noirette remained silent, but he stared with such animosity that Thor gave up and walked away. Loki glanced down at the tray of food and made a sound of disgust.

**Day 7**.

He never came back, though Loki prayed to the Gods that he would. He felt...guilt. Regret. So, on his knees, he prayed, although he had stopped doing that as a child. Thor was the only God he knew of and believed in. Albeit, he prayed that Thor would remember _that day_...

**Day 13. **

Loki choked on his sobs, yet shed no tears. He wanted them to appear. Willed them to come desperately, hoping for a release.

_**You are an idiot. A pitiable, worthless idiot**_. No one had visited him, though trays of food appeared daily. Loki gagged, warm tears contrasting against the temperature and finally making their way down his cheeks, but it was useless. He felt as if he could vomit up the pain that pooled in his gut. He screamed a low, throat-ripping scream, falling against the glass, then sliding down it, resolving to sit on the floor. _He forgot,_ chanted his thoughts. _Forgot about me. Forgot about that day...my day._..

He let out another strangled cry. He was unneeded. Unnecessary. Unwanted. Unloved. Memories flooded through his mind, adding to the pain. Adding to the cacophony.

_He doesn't love me_.

**Flash**: Childhood. Sharing toys with a greedy, blonde-haired boy. Smiling.

_He never loved me_.

**Flash**: Adolescence. Hiding from thunder. A blue-eyed child links pinkies with me, promises to protect me. Grinning.

Watching the boy join the others, training, abandoning me.

Watching him grow into a warrior. Scared, detatched.

_Why would he?_

_Flash_: Teenaged years. First kisses together. Exploring even further. Electric. Nervous glances and flirtatious smiles. Feather-light touches countered with rough, mark-making bites and scratches. Marking what he owns, because we are not equal. We have never been equal. Bruises, hickeys, I bear it all, for I am the prey.

_I am inferior. I have always been inferior._

Another gut-wrenching scream escaped his lips, screaming his name over and over and over.

"Loki." That voice. Loki wondered how long he'd been watching from the darkness. Thor sat opposite of his brother, sitting against the other side of the glass. He slipped a muscular hand through the door-slot and grasped Loki's thin, pale one, rubbing it comfortingly.

"I'm here, brother," he murmured. After a moment, Loki's wide, terrified, green eyes looked into Thor's, his panicked voice laced with sudden realization. "Am I dying, Thor...?"

Thor remained silent.

**Day 26**.

It was pouring rain outside. Loki whimpered almost inaudiably, huddled on the cot, freezing cold. He tried to stop shaking, but to no avail; not only was he cold, but he was terrified of the storm. Of the thunder.

"Thor," he breathed silently to himself. "please stop this..."

"This storm is out of my control." Loki jumped, startled at the sudden voice. Thor clambered into the cot and wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him close and feeling his heart beat wildly. Loki sighed, burrowing his face into the blonde's neck. Today was the day. But did he even remember? The date was insignificant to nearly everyone, so Loki decided to let it go, as well.

"Thor?"

"Yes?"

"Speak to me until I fall asleep." Thor rolled his eyes, remembering that Loki was still as bossy as ever.

"I'll tell you a story then, I suppose..." Loki burrowed in closer, his eyes already compelled shut by fatigue. He clung to Thor as if he expected him to be leaving again.

"There once was a boy - a prince - who was very, very mistreated and very, very misunderstood." Thor could feel Loki's smile against his neck. He pulled the younger male closer, warming him.

"And this prince was amazing. Intelligent and very skilled with magic, he slayed many beasts, yet allowed his brother to gain all of the fame for his doings. For he loved his brother and his brother loved him. His brother treasured him, was lost without him... The day came that one of them were to be crowned king, but there had been a mistake: the foolish brother was coronated instead of the cunning, beautiful prince." Loki's breaths were slowing as he drifted, but he nudged Thor, encouraging him to continue.

"After a long period of confusion, the two brothers ultimately ended up battling. The idiotic, selfish, loving prince allowed his brother to win, and sacrificed himself in order to do so. The brother went into an extremely long period of mourning," he paused, taking a shuddery breath.

"M'sorry..." Loki murmured weakly.

"Shh, don't speak... The prince turned out to be alive after all and foolishly tried to conquer a planet in order to get his brother's attention. It worked, but it caused them both _a lot_ of pain. The brother tried and tried to save the prince, but he failed. The prince loved too much. The brother did as well. So, despite his trying, the lovely, stunning, genius prince died in his lover's arms."

Loki's breaths had ceased. His heart, stopped. Thor pulled him closer and kissed his forehead.

"Happy birthday, my prince."


End file.
